


The Eiffel Tower

by DiYunho



Category: DCU, Joker - Fandom, Joker Suicide Squad - Fandom, Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom, joker DCU
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Comfort/Angst, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gotham City - Freeform, Hotel Davros, Joker - Freeform, Joker Jared Leto - Freeform, Joker suicide squad, No Strings Attached, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Relationship(s), Secrets, Strong Female Characters, The Joker - Freeform, The Joker dcu, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 23:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17253356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiYunho/pseuds/DiYunho
Summary: Davros Hotels are considered neutral ground, internationally used for meetings, negotiations and cash only transactions: no weapons allowed, no fighting, no personal vendettas. Since you became the owner of Davros Hotel in Gotham four years ago, The Joker developed a fixation with your long legs. Why? Because you are very tall. Not a mere inch difference in height between the two of you, not at all: more like 8 inches, almost double when you wear high heels.





	The Eiffel Tower

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow me on Tumblr and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

“This is neutral ground: no weapons allowed, no fighting, no personal vendettas. Davros Hotels are internationally used for meetings, negotiations and cash only transactions; safe haven can also be provided on case to case basis. Breaking the house rules will result in major penalties, including the membership being permanently revoked,” you explain to the new member, even if everyone already knows the oath they are committing to before they join the exclusivist organization.

“Of course, Madam President,” the man agrees without any hesitation.

You take the gold pin engraved with the letter “D” from its small box, attaching it to his suit’s collar.

“Congratulations,” you smile and he kisses your hand, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you,” Jonathan Crane strengthens his back, heading towards the two bodyguards waiting to take him to a meeting taking place on the 35th floor.

Once Scarecrow exits your office, The Joker taps his green cane on the marble floor, grinning. The Clown Prince of Crime just “happened” to be here for the short ceremony and quietly waited on the couch until you were done.

“That was emotional,” he chuckles, staring at your long legs showing from behind the glass desk.

“Mister J, are you participating in any meetings today?” you cut him off because you have a feeling he’s here without any purpose in particular.

“Nope, I’m just visiting so I can take care of my obsession,” he smirks and you don’t tolerate that kind of behavior at work.

“J, can you not?!”

“Oh, so now I’m J,” the answer doesn’t seem to impress a displeased Y/N that knows exactly what he’s referring to.

You became the owner of the Davros Hotel in Gotham four years ago and The Joker was already a member. Very hard for him to follow any regulations, but every villain, assassin or hitman that respects himself is part of the elite corporation.

From the first time he saw you, J developed a fixation with your long legs. Why? Because you are very tall. Not a mere inch difference in height between the two of you, not at all: more like 8 inches, almost double when you wear high heels.

“Please don’t make me take away your membership,” you start writing in your ledger, hoping he’ll take the hint and get lost.

“I didn’t break any house rules, Madam President,” The Joker brings to your attention and you keep on scribbling, annoyed he’s actually right. “Are you going to watch the meteor shower with me tonight?” J asks and you lift your head up, sighing. “You can bring the kid,” he points towards Emma’s picture on the desk.

“Hmm…If I can bring the kid then I might,” you mumble and return to your task while The King of Gotham continues to analyze what he came for: the fascinating pair of legs he can’t stay away from even if he’d try.

Suddenly, your hand slows down on the paper.

“I wish…” and you pause,”…I wish she could see how beautiful it is,” you gaze at him and unconsciously bite on your cheek.

“I know,” The Joker takes a deep breath and that’s probably all that he will say on the subject.

You nod a faint yes, brushing your fingers on top of the tattoo inside your left wrist: it spells “Emma” in Braille alphabet symbols.

*************

Three years ago

It was Tuesday morning and he barely got out of bed and managed to put on his boxers. J wondered if you already left, but the smell of coffee in the air meant that you were probably still there. He silently headed towards the kitchen and sneaked behind a sleepy Y/N without a word. Your back was turned and didn’t notice he was there; you had a coffee mug half empty on the counter and kept on scrolling through your cell phone.

The thing he liked the most was the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts; it was too short for you and The Joker could see the bottom of your lacy bikini.

“Morning Madam,” he growled and turned you around, kissing your breasts peeking from behind the fabric since the shirt was unbuttoned.

You just smiled and reached for the coffee maker, discretely getting away from his touch while pretending to do something useful.

“Good morning,” you poured some hot liquid for him in another mug and offered the beverage in a hurry. “I have to go; I’ll probably see you later this week, OK?”

“Busy again?” J frowned, sipping from the cup. “I want you to have breakfast with me; I don’t like to eat alone.”

“I can’t, I don’t want to be late,” you tried to go around him and he trapped you against the counter.

“Bulshit! You never stay. Why?” the blue eyes truly demanded an explanation; you could tell he was getting angry.

“Because it feels… too personal,” was the best explanation you could offer.

“And sex is not?” The Joker snarled though his clenched teeth; he seemed mad and you tried to reason with the man you spent the night with.

“Why don’t you call one of your girlfriends over, hm?” you took the cup out of his hand and set it aside, sincerely proposing a reasonable solution for the issue.

“I wanna have breakfast with you! Can’t you understand it’s an honor and a privilege to be invited to eat with The Joker?!”

“Well, it’s an honor and a privilege to sleep with Davro’s owner, so we can say we’re even. Yes?”

Before he could reply you lowered your head to kiss him, aware how much J hated to get on his toes so he can sort of reach your lips.

The reality was that The Joker didn’t want you to stay and eat with him for any other reason besides the fact that he was used to get what he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of the circumstances. You didn’t indulge his whims simply because nothing was owed to The Clown Prince of Crime.

Y/N had a different power over Gotham than The Joker’s; she was protected by the secret society’s laws and principles that not even him could touch. At least not without disastrous consequences.

“I have to be at the hotel early this morning, it’s not a lie. We have a situation in Madrid that requires immediate attention,” you tucked his green hair behind the ears, annoyed with the temper and demands. But he was great in bed and that’s why you dropped by once or twice a week, depending on your busy schedule.

J peeled his shirt off your body, tossing it to the ground.

“Go then!” he raised his voice afterwards, irritated. “Go!”

You calmly walked towards the master bedroom without a word, gathering garments scattered all over the place. He kept on glaring at the tall, naked Y/N wearing only a pair of bikini, mumbling to himself:

“Goddamn Eiffel Tower!”

You raised your hand up and waved without turning, rolling your eyes at the nickname you knew about.

“I heard that!”  
*************

It turned out the Madrid affair was even more serious than anticipated and it required your presence. You were set to fly to Spain the next morning at 7am,using the organization’s private jet and one of the fake identities at your disposal. Fortunately, you didn’t have to pack too many things because Davros Hotels always accommodate their owners and members with everything necessary no matter the country or location.

Searching your purse for the last details, you realized something important was missing: your yearly planner with handwritten notes, probably left at The Joker’s Penthouse. You recalled stopping by the elevator and digging in your purse for the car keys before you left, placing a bunch of items on the coffee table. It was certainly still there.

Instead of sending one of your men to get the planner, you decided to be the one to drive back to J’s place and recover it: you knew exactly where it was so might as well.

It was 9pm and Frost kind of froze when he saw you, not expecting to see you twice in the same day.

“I’m going upstairs,” you announced your intention and he pressed the button, calling the elevator for you.

“Madam President,” Jonny fake coughed,”you should know that Mister J has…umm…company.”

You chuckled, amused.

“Don’t be childish, Frost. I don’t care; I only forgot something in the lobby. It will take a moment to get.”

“Of course,” he agreed, gulping. Jonny was actually worried for no reason: you occasionally slept with his boss, nothing more. You liked your freedom and he liked his. No strings attached, plain and simple.

When the elevator’s doors opened on the 30th floor, you definitely noticed signs of some kind of party: confetti, drinks, balloons and loud music playing in the background. You tiptoed towards the coffee table, already seeing the tiny notebook was exactly where you left it.

Since the lobby directed straight into the living room, you couldn’t help but take a quick look around the premises: one girl was passed out on the couch, two others were having a pillow fight, visibly drunk and stripped down to their bras and panties. The Joker was sitting on a chair wearing a pair of sweatpants, making out with the woman sitting in his lap. She kept on grinding against him and you could tell he was very worked up about it since her outfit was super skimpy.

Busy guy… you thought and backed out towards the elevator when J saw you and it was kind of awkward, that’s why you felt the need to say something:

“I’m not here!” you shouted and rushed inside, guilty to have interrupted the fun.

Your cellphone rang before you reached the 22nd floor. The Joker’s name popped on the screen and you had to answer.

“I didn’t know you’re coming,” the deep voice sneered.

“Sorry to sneak in like that, but I forgot my planner on the coffee table. I didn’t mean to intrude,” you apologized even if you didn’t have to.

“I can send them away,” he proposed but Y/N had no intention to return that night.

“I didn’t come for sex so there’s no need. Like I said, I simply forgot my planner and I came to retrieve it. I’m flying to Madrid tomorrow and I need it.”

“How long are you gonna be away?”

“For a while, not sure. I’ll call you after I return,” you informed, somewhat flustered.

“Fine!” and J hang up without any further comments.

You sat in your SUV for a few minutes, staring at the cars in the underground parking for no reason. You dreaded your trip, but it had to be done: Davros managers could never neglect their duties.

Even if the only thing the owner of the Davros Hotel in Gotham wanted for the moment was to call The Joker and tell him to get rid of those girls so she can spend the night with him.

**************

Madrid was a mess; took two months and a half to clear up the craziness: the owner of the Hotel was assassinated and imminent chaos menaced to strike the network in Spain since the successor was the one suspected to have killed his predecessor.

In the end it was proved the new owner was innocent and the charges were dropped, a very tired Y/N finally returning to Gotham after a long absence. You didn’t contact J at all, waiting to get better before seeing him: while abroad, you felt sick for days and ignored your health because you were simply too busy helping out the Organization. And then you found out why.

Ten days after your arrival, The Joker decided to pay you a visit: you weren’t hard to find since you lived at the Penthouse on top of Davros Hotel. He knew you were back and got pissed you didn’t call like you promised. Not because he cared, but because of his ego.

You weren’t in the mood for a meeting when security asked if J should be allowed to come to your suit, but he insisted. You left the door opened for him and he found a pale, much skinnier Y/N waiting for him in the living room, covered with a blanket.

“You didn’t come over,” The Joker criticized instead of hello, reckoning you don’t look good.

“Because I’m sick,” you signaled him to come sit by you on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired out of pure curiosity.

You didn’t want to tell him.

Once his body was next to yours, you just fed him some lies, this way he’d leave you alone.

“Nothing to worry about; just a bug I caught while traveling. A lot of stress and sleeplessness on top of everything, you know?”

He pretended to debate, bringing up the real problem:

“So when exactly I’m going to have those long legs of yours up on my shoulders or around my waist, huh?”

Even if you were nauseated, you started laughing like you didn’t laugh in weeks.

“As soon as I’m better, OK?”

“Yeah, but when? I need a time frame,” The Joker attempted to negotiate.

“Soon,” the repeated word made him sigh, exasperated:

“Goddamn Eiffel Tower!”

“Am I that tall?” you teased, waiting for an over-the-top response and you weren’t disappointed.

“Pfft, yeah! I need a fucking stool to hop on if I want to kiss you when we’re standing!”

J expected more laughing but you seemed sad.

“We’re not standing right now…” you whispered and pulled him closer until your lips touched. ”I missed you,” you caressed his face and then leaned back on the pillows, placing your legs in his lap. He wasn’t sure about what was going on, but he wasn’t stupid: something was off.

“Is this a mating sign?” he lifted his non-existing eyebrows, starting to walk his fingers on the soft skin and yanked at your blanket, throwing it behind the couch.

You pressed your abdomen with both hands in a hurry, not expecting that action from his part.

“Can you give that back, please?!” you pleaded. 

He looked at your tummy in silence, then uttered:

“Madam President, is that a baby bump?”

How could you have denied it? You were two months pregnant when you left for Madrid and had no idea yet, plus the two months and a half spent over there…It showed.

“Yes,” you sniffled and cuddled against the pillows, a bit anxious.

“Am I the father?” the interrogation went on.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” The Joker suspiciously smacked his lips.

“Yes.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No.”

“Then who’s the father?”

“It’s none of your business!” you cut him off and then turned your attention towards the TV, watching the random movie that you couldn’t hear over your ears ringing.

J saw the tears you struggled to keep in and the frustration, deciding to drop it.

“What are we watching?” he grabbed the remote, scrolling down the channels.

You just lifted your shoulders up and refused to talk. J kept your long legs in his lap for hours until you fell asleep. Before he left, The Joker touched your tummy and grumbled, careful not to wake you up:

“Behave! You’re making your mom sick.”

***************

It was such a difficult pregnancy followed by an excruciating delivery; you were miserable the whole time, some days you couldn’t even muster the energy to go to your office on the 27th floor so you just worked from home while bedridden. Thankfully, you had trustworthy people helping and it made the process easier. You avoided J as much as possible, which wasn’t hard since he didn’t show up at Davros for meetings or transactions anymore. He certainly had his girlfriends to have fun with, plus your priorities changed also.

After your water broke, you were in labor for almost 24 hours. It was a very complicated birth and the doctors had to perform an emergency C-section in order to save the baby.

Emma brightened your existence at 2:03am on a Saturday, but the medical team had to give you bad news: at the preliminary examination, it was determined that your daughter was born blind.

The announcement was a serious blow to your mental state: the tiny miracle in your arms didn’t deserve such faith and you couldn’t stop crying, blaming yourself for what happened to her.

They kept you at the private hospital for eight days until you were given the ok to return home. The new mother was tired, depressed and heartbroken, even if the numerous specialists that further evaluated your daughter’s eyesight said that a few options might be possible once she was older: eye surgeries and even corneal transplant. No guarantees anything would work, of course.

The Joker showed up at your Penthouse one month after Emma’s birth. He convinced the security team not to announce his arrival and had to pull a lot of strings, but he was able to get in your suit, trying to guess where the baby’s bedroom was among the 14 rooms. J found it upstairs, right by the master bedroom.

You were pacing around, talking to the little one:

“This is mommy. Can you feel me?” you touched your cheeks with the small hands, smiling at her. Emma fussed and you covered her in kisses, seconds later bursting into tears. “Mommy’s so sorry…” you gently rocked her, hoping she would fall asleep. “I don’t know what I did wrong…I’m so sorry sweetheart,” and you wiped your tears when you heard the knock on the cracked door.

“Can I come in?”

You stared at The Joker, surprised to see him there. He placed the huge bouquet of flowers on the recliner you often slept in and waited.

“With all due respect Madam President, I must say you look like crap,” he kept a straight face while pronouncing the words. You didn’t react in any way and he found it imperative to converse more:

“I came to offer my congratulations,” J pointed towards your daughter and you mumbled a faint thank you. “Can I look at her?” he approached and you didn’t stop him. “Is it true that our baby is blind?” he nonchalantly brought it up, hovering over the little Princess you were holding.

“Y-yes,” you admitted to both questions, sobbing even if you tried to control your composure.

It’s just been so hard and him being there didn’t help.

“That sucks,” The Joker puckered his lips and hinted: “You know it’s not your fault, right? She’s healthy otherwise?”

You nodded a yes, blowing your nose in a tissue and J sighted:

“It’s not the end of the world, Madam President. Can I hold her?”

You hesitated, but gave in and handed Emma over to The Joker. She yawned and he could see her eyes couldn’t focus; they were a very light, unnatural blue shade.

“All these cute things I bought for her and she can’t see them,” you remorsefully sniffled and didn’t understand why he gestured for you to sit down on the pink couch. You complied though and J turned off the light, slowly finding his way towards an upset Y/N.

“Shit it’s dark!” he complained and you worried he’ll stumble and drop the baby.

“What are you doing?!” you asked and extended your arms until you felt him and guided him to sit beside you.

“There, this way we can see what she sees, which is apparently …nothing.”

He wondered what you were thinking about but the mystery solved itself when your head rested on his shoulder and softly said:

“It’s not that dark once you get used to it…”

******************

“You know this is mommy, yeah?” you snickered and tickled the seven months old Emma, touching her nose with yours. She babbled and cooed, recognizing her mother’s voice. She was crawling around in the padded bedroom, especially set up for her because you didn’t want your daughter to hurt herself.

“Such a good girl,” you praised and let her feel your face and then kissed the little fingers. 

“Com’ere, Pumpkin!” The Joker clapped and his little girl excitedly screamed: another voice she recognized and crawled towards the source of the noise, almost losing her balance. The Joker waited for her to reach his feet and then lifted her up, tossing her in the air and she giggled each time he caught her. It always made you so content to see her happy. And it made you happier when J showed interest towards his daughter.

“OK, daddy’s tired,” J huffed after a few rounds, placing Emma back on the padded floor and giving her the binky. “Pfew, she’s getting heavy,” he over exaggerated and collapsed next to her. Emma started rattling toys she couldn’t see, thrilled about the noise nevertheless and tried to climb over him without success.

You were organizing some books on the shelves, a ton of bedtime stories in Braille alphabet and how to read Braille, lots of things you collected and learned in order to be able to help your baby in the future. You finished and turned around to see what Emma was doing: she was snuggling with J’s purple coat and he was watching her, puzzled.

“I don’t know why she likes it so much; she can’t even see the vibrant color,” he taunted and attempted to pull it away from her. She whimpered and you had to explain:

“Emma likes it because it smells like you; that’s she recognizes us: by our voices, scent and the shape of our faces.”

You were ready to protest him taking the coat from her, but he cuddled with Emma, squeezing her chubby cheeks:

“The real thing is better, hm? You don’t need the coat.”

*****************

1pm today

“Mommy is as tall as The Eiffel Tower,” J addresses his sleepy daughter, ranting about random stuff like he always is. 

“Fafel?” the innocent reproduction of the French landmark makes him laugh like a maniac; the two year old is entertaining as hell.

“Precisely!” he kisses Emma’s forehead as a reward and tucks her and the teddy bear under the sparkly comforter for the afternoon nap. “Mommy is the President of Davros in Gotham, which is a very cool job and daddy is a King, also a remarkable occupation,” The Joker boasts even if the little girl has no clue about what he’s rambling.

“Da’yy, whe’s mommy?” she pouts because your daughter didn’t hear you in a while.

“Mommy’s at work right below us. After you wake up we’ll go see her, alright?”

“U-hum,” she squeezes her fluffy toy closer and The Joker waits until she is completely out before calling over the nanny so he can visit you on the 27th floor.

He barely made himself comfortable on the couch when the secretary announced:

“Mister Jonathan Crane is here for his inauguration.”

“Tell him to come in,” you get up and prepared the gold pin to give to the new Davros member.

“Madam President, can I participate in this solemn moment?” the devilish silver smile makes you doubtful on the request. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“It’s better if you don’t,” a sour Y/N replies, but it is too late: Scarecrow enters the office and J attends the short ceremony. Actually was quiet for once and behaved.

Until Jonathan left, of course.

****************

Since The Joker invited you over to his Penthouse to watch the meteor shower, you plan to spend the night there with Emma. After dinner, you got out on the terrace, read a few stories to her and she dozed off in her dad’s arms. The swing is holding the three of you while you and J wait for the celestial show to begin.

“How I wish she could see this,” you stroke her long hair. “Can you imagine how stunned she would be?” you brush your lips against the toddler’s closed eyelids.

“Maybe one day she will,” he growls and elbows you. “Hey, do you know I had to cancel an orgy so you two can come over?”

“Wow, you never cease to amaze me. You’re just so selfless,” the lack of enthusiasm in your voice prompts more nonsense:

“Indeed. I think I deserve some kind of compensation,” The Joker lustfully stares at your long legs. 

“Oh, I think it’s starting!” you squeal, interrupting his enthusiasm. “I’ll turn off the lights in the living room,” the hyper Y/N strolls inside and swiftly returns to her spot on the swing.

“It’s pretty dark out here,” J frowns because he got ignored and you kiss his neck, smiling:

“It’s not that dark once you get used to it…”


End file.
